


Scolding

by Lady_Juno



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Apologies, Crack, Gen, No more Mr. Nice Hobbit, Thranduil gets told off, lots of crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-02-26 10:36:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2648894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Juno/pseuds/Lady_Juno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo pays a visit to Thranduil in order to extract a much-needed apology.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Legolas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [garafthel (sister_wolf)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sister_wolf/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Flowers Among the Fallen Leaves](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136263) by [garafthel (sister_wolf)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sister_wolf/pseuds/garafthel). 



> A gift for Garafthel (sister_wolf) in undying thanks for her amazing fic, _Flowers Among the Fallen Leaves_. It is beautiful, and this fic doesn't at all do it justice.

"You… what?"

"You heard me." Bilbo scowled up at the fair-haired elven prince, and Legolas shifted uncertainly, glancing from the hobbit to his escort. Elladan stood with his arms crossed, deceptively relaxed, in spite of the way his hand rested on the pommel of his sword. Even in the hovering threat of violence, a smile sparkled in the dark grey eyes of Elrond's son, as though he were silently challenging the Woodland princeling to stand up to the fierce little hobbit.

Stand up, thought Legolas, or stand down? He looked down again at the hobbit, noting that the top of the creature's curly head was barely level with his own engraved breastplate. Bilbo was still scowling up at him, and after another moment of awkward silence, Legolas took half a step back.

"I'm sorry, but one cannot simply walk into the throne room of the Elvenking and demand an audience." Even though he was completely convinced of the truth of his own words, Legolas found himself wondering if the hobbit would do precisely that. He had, after all, acquitted himself admirably in the Battle of the Five Armies, as had- "Tauriel." Legolas swiftly scanned the small gathering, but saw neither the red-haired former captain, nor her dark-haired dwarven lover. Even the thought made him angry. She had chosen a dwarf over him, _him_ , a prince of her own kind, the closest to a friend she had ever-

"Ah, so you know why I'm here." Bilbo was looking a little smug.

"I'm afraid I don't follow." Legolas hadn't the faintest clue why the hobbit was here, and even less of an idea of why the little creature was now looking nearly angry.

"I will have an apology, even if I have to wrestle it out of him."

"Him?"

"Thranduil! Honestly, after all she did, he just banished her? And directly after the Battle- I mean, if anyone deserves an apology here, it's Tauriel! You have no idea what she's been through."

"I have-?" Bewildered, Legolas retreated another half-step, and this time, Bilbo pursued him, shaking his finger severely.

"You can bet your pretty behind you don't. You should apologize, too. All this time, and not even a letter to ask how she was doing? I thought you were her _friend._ What sort of a friend just lets a girl go off into the Wilds without so much as a 'by your leave'? Honestly, even if she hadn't gone straight through Gundabad, I would have thought that you would take an interest in-"

"She did what? _Alone?_ " Legolas was seized with fear.

"Yes she did," answered the hobbit, now sounded slightly triumphant. "And she came out the other side in one piece, all in time to stop by for a visit and help me on my way to Rivendell. And how does _that_ make you feel, Mr. High-and-Mighty?"

The shock of hearing what Tauriel had been doing with her free time hadn't yet faded, and Legolas couldn't help but harbor the fear that something terrible had happened. He was angry with her for her choices, but that was nothing in comparison to the mental image of her torn and mangled body, far from the light of the stars, no one for miles to mourn her passing. No one to sing her spirit to the Undying Lands.

Bilbo seemed to have realized that Legolas understood now. His expression softened and he touched the prince's hand gently.

"You should apologize to her. It would mean the world to her to know that you haven't abandoned her."

"I never-"

"I know. It was your father's choice. Now, are you going to let me in to see him, or are you going to make me sneak in like I did last time?"

"Last time?" Was there no end to Bilbo's cryptic surprises? When had he ever been in the throne room? A long-forgotten reference to Bilbo's "rescuing" the dwarves from Thranduil's dungeons surfaced in his mind, and Legolas regarded the hobbit with a new wariness. There was certainly far more to the creature than he'd suspected. Much more.

"Never you mind about that. Am I to see the king or not?"


	2. Thranduil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, even the people who inspire the greatest anger can also inspire the greatest pity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the movieverse, was well as in the mother-work that inspired this one, _Flowers Among the Fallen Leaves,_ Thranduil's palace is depicted as being underground and carved out of stone to look like wood. I decided that in this little offshoot, Thrandy's palace is actually (at least partially) aboveground, because I have headcanon about that huge tree that holds the front gate we see in _The Hobbit: DoS._  
>  Also, obviously this doesn't quite follow the FALF canon, since Legolas is still in Mirkwood. In my defense I wrote this before our good friend Garafthel wrote her latest chapter of Flowers. :0 I hope you enjoy it anyway.

What was it about elves and never putting railings on their bridges? Bilbo stayed near the center of the walkway as it arched gracefully over the river, which foamed and frothed over a hundred feet below them. The Woodland Palace was primarily constructed from one huge tree (what he could see of it, anyway) and all their walkways and arches and stairs had been molded from the roots and boughs of the enormous plant, which seemed to still be alive.

The throne room was exactly as he remembered it, right down to the elf who had draped himself gracefully across his ostentatious seat of power. His long silver gown hung in rippling waves to the floor of his dais, and his crown was hanging from one of the many tines of the wild antlers branching above him. Bilbo brushed past the elven prince, even as Legolas advanced to announce him. He couldn't help the anger that boiled up inside him at the sight of the Elvenking, lounging in his throne, the picture of uncaring luxury. A fine silver goblet was in his hand, and as he turned his head slightly to look at the hobbit as he stomped closer, Bilbo could see the deep red stain of wine around the king's lips.

"What is this?" Drawled Thranduil, not even bothering to sit up in the presence of the little hobbit. "I thought I said I wasn't to be disturbed."

The guards shifted uncomfortably and glanced at the prince, who seemed equally uncertain. Legolas didn't really have time to gather himself before Bilbo launched into a healthy tirade.

"I can't believe you. I just can't _believe_ you. Lounging about, ordering folk hither and yon, drinking to excess!" Bilbo couldn't be sure of this last accusation, but if what he'd seen of the woodland elves' drinking habits before was any indication, it was definitely 'to excess.' Thranduil was sitting up now, the look on his face outraged. Bilbo was already reaching for the ornate green bottle, sitting on its polished silver tray on the dais' top step. It was over half empty, but there was plenty of wine left in it for his purposes.

Thranduil pointed angrily at the hobbit with the same hand he held his goblet in. "How dare you speak to me like this. Guards-" splash.

It was terribly quiet and anticlimactic, but Thranduil's reaction wasn't. As the deep burgundy of the wine soaked into his scintillating silver gown, the elf leapt to his feet, his expression absolutely appalled. "How _dare-_ "

"You've done worse," interrupted the hobbit coldly. "I came to see that Tauriel gets a proper apology, and preferably before I lose my temper."

The guards, Legolas, and Thranduil all stared at Bilbo in flabbergasted silence. Elladan covered his mouth with a hand, trying very hard not to laugh. If this was _not_ losing his temper, he would hate to be in the hobbit's bad books.

"She served you faithfully, loyally, for hundreds of years. Even when you stopped caring about the forest and the lands outside your borders, she refused to give up. She was protecting your greatest assets even as you pushed her away. She gave _everything_  for you, and you… you never even thanked her." Bilbo's shoulders were tense, his eyebrows lowered thunderously over hazel eyes that seemed to shine a dangerous shade of green. "How many lives has she saved? Tell me that. How many people has she spared from the spiders, from orcs, from the dragon?"

"She would have had me sacrifice more of my people, of _her_ people, to save _dwarves._ " Thranduil was listening now, at least. He towered over the hobbit, easily twice Bilbo's height and a little more. "What sort of loyalty is that?"

"And how many of your Guard expect to live forever?" Bilbo pointed angrily at one of the armored elves guarding the foot of the dais. The elf shifted slightly, uncomfortable and silent. "Do they become warriors so they can hide behind your orders and revel in immortality? I was under the impression that no elf entered the Woodland Guard under duress. They enlist, knowing full well that death may be asked of them. To be in the Guard, to be in an army, is to pledge your life to protect those who cannot protect themselves. You are a King! There is no excuse for your ignorance!"

"You call me ignorant?" The silver goblet chimed as it hit the floor, and it was a jarringly musical sound in the room, snapping with tension. Thranduil stooped, picking up the hobbit by the front of his travel-worn coat. As Bilbo's feet dangled helplessly in the air, Legolas took a step forward, only to be stopped by Elladan's gentle hand.

"Give them a moment," the dark-haired elf murmured, still smiling. There was, however, a certain tension in his eyes, in the way he stood. Bilbo could turn this around yet, but it would be a close thing.

"You accuse me of not knowing the price of war? I sacrificed _everything._ My father and grandfather fell in battle. My mother sailed into the West when orcs took my sister. My own wife cannot look on my face without shuddering. I have lost everything. I will sacrifice no more."

There was a moment of silence, the space between them charged with the wounded soul the king had bared, invisible blood weeping from hurts that ought to have been long healed. Bilbo's hands stayed quietly around Thranduil's wrists, supporting some of his own weight.

"You know what sacrifice is," said the hobbit softly. "So why do you ask her to give up her home and her family, because she found love?"

"You don't dictate to me." Thranduil's venom seemed to be fading now, and he lowered the little fellow to his feet again.

"No, I don't. But I do ask you, as a friend and ally, to apologize to one who has only ever wanted your approval."

Thranduil seemed to fold in on himself as he sat down on the edge of his throne once more, looking down at the hobbit with a very serious sort of expression on his face.

"Every time we've face each other, Master Baggins, you seem to be advocating for someone. Tell me, do you ever do anything for yourself?"

Bilbo flushed, startled by this sudden turn in the conversation. "I do plenty of things for myself. Coming here at all was terribly selfish." There seemed to be an unfinished thought hanging in the air, a justification of why the hobbit was standing before a king, once again arguing someone else's case.

"You will have your wish, Master Baggins. I shall apologize next time I see her." Though the tone was cool and detached, Bilbo sensed that the Elvenking really did mean it. The hobbit bowed. "Don't think this means I shall lift her exile. She is still a traitor."

Bilbo bit his tongue. He wanted badly to tell the elf to judge Tauriel on her own merit, instead of against impossible standards no one lived up to, not even his own son. He'd gotten what he came for. Now it was time to leave well enough alone.

"Father." Legolas' tone was startling, half reproach and half plea. The Elvenking shot him a sharp look, and Bilbo surmised this was a conversation they'd had before.

"No. I'll not yeild." Hearing Thorin's words in the elf's smooth voice sent shivers racing down into the hobbit's stomach, and he felt a little sick. Gold sickness? No. Not here. But the memories were still all too fresh, even after so many months had passed. Thranduil sank wearily back in his throne, glancing about for his dropped goblet. "Leave me."

"Bilbo." Elladan had extended a hand to the hobbit, and out of politeness, he accepted. Heavy silence wrapped around them as they left, and Bilbo glanced back, just once. He felt sorry for Thranduil, now. He hadn't realized the elf was hurting so deeply. Still, Legolas was there, and maybe he would be able to help. _Someone_ should. Selfishly, Bilbo hoped he wouldn't be called on to fill that role. Not now, at least.


End file.
